After seven long years, I finally graduated from seminary this past May. The running joke among friends was that Jesus would return by the time I finished my degree. Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately, for some) Jesus has yet to return, so I still have my student loans to reckon with – but thankfully I’ve been gifted with some earthly time to process these precious years of learning.
I started seminary straight out of business school, with no intention to enter into vocational ministry. Somehow, a quiet spark of curiosity about seminary years ago surfaced to a full-blown conviction to enroll in a degree program typically meant for pastors. What reason did I, a female complementarian, have for pursuing a “Master of Divinity” (MDiv), as it’s called? To what end? Was it “worth it”?
Why I Went To Seminary (Originally)
I had no clear professional or “utilitarian” reason for seminary but this: “to be equipped” for whatever the Lord would have for me. (And that could mean a “career woman,” a celibate single, a lay leader in the church, a stay-at-home mom, a missionary – whatever.)
As I wrestled with whether or not to apply, my inner thoughts were filled with a lot of “why nots”:
- If the Word is “breathed out” by our Lord Himself and “profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training” that we may be “equipped for every good work” (2 Tim 3:16-17) – then why not invest in studying it?
- If God is the sole purpose and meaning behind all things (Rom 11:36; Col 1:16), and if I love learning, then why not learn about, arguably, the most important subject matter in the world?
- And if I want to be equipped for whatever comes at me in life then why not pursue a degree that equips our very own pastors? Why not go “directly to the source”?
- If I have the time, energy, and means, why not study the Word – to help me live this one life well, wisely, properly, and purposefully? Why not learn about our Creator and the meaning of life for His creatures?
- If the harvest is plenty but the workers are few…
why not, why not, why not?
And so, I applied.
The Expectation
I expected seminary to be much like any other academic environment: an invigorating season of learning and absorbing – of sleepless nights, intriguing reads, and perhaps, I assumed, a level of spiritual flourishing. This proved to be somewhat true… but not exactly as anticipated.
The Harsher Realities
Hogwarts?
My first year at seminary was a bit of a brutal awakening. Unlike many of the men around me, I did not have a reformed or Bible college background. The lingo, the catechisms, the seminary “celebrities” – it all felt completely foreign to me. I was like an ignorant muggle entering into the world of Hogwarts, as I struggled to pronounce and interpret my course titles: Prolegomena, Hermeneutics, Apologetics? Imposter syndrome kicked in, which made me think twice before contributing in class.
Rare Female Species
Additionally, I was one of a handful of MDiv females in a cohort of 50 or so MDiv students. While I had been warned on several occasions that “men are men, even in seminary” – what I found more personally challenging was the reformed complementarian culture among students: suspicion of my desire to get an MDiv; debates over whether women should be in seminary in the first place; sometimes ignored or overlooked contributions of female students; extreme caution in opposite-sex interactions that ironically led to increased feelings of objectification. The more unpleasant experiences of “being a woman” felt more pronounced in this context than in business school, where I felt very little of it. I observed that sometimes reformed culture functionally practices more of a separationism of the sexes than the complementarianism it proclaims. (As a disclaimer, this was not my experience with all individual men at seminary – but rather an underlying aspect of the overall female experience.)
Spiritual Drought
Despite being consistently in God’s Word and surrounded by His people, after several years in the grind of school, ministry, and work responsibilities, a severe spiritual drought ensued. This taught me a hard lesson: academic reading of the Word does not necessarily equate to communion with Him – and it definitely does not replace relational time spent with Him in prayer and in the Word. Any student of the Word should heed extra caution about the state of his or her heart, as even the devil knows theology; knowledge does not equate to spiritual maturity or transformation.
The Takeaways
All these “harsher realities,” the Lord redeemed. I believe even the unpleasant experiences of seminary are part of His education for us. For example, the foreign nature of seminary helped me to understand the perspective of “outsiders” to reformed theology and culture; the scarcity of females helped me to see gaps in both ministry and theological training without the female perspective (and to seek true complementarianism); the rich theology convicted me of the need to more deeply equip lay women in the church; the spiritual drought taught me the utter importance of my own communion with the Lord (even when constantly in His Word).
As with all things in life, any negative experiences of seminary were far outweighed by the mindblowing grace of God – more specifically in this case, the gift of an education that forever changed the way I view God, human life, and daily living. I was introduced to the “one big story” of Scripture, the biblical worldview through which we filter life, the implications of our “union with Christ,” the limitations of human thought, and the inexhaustible depths of Scripture.
The list goes on, and that’s the beauty of it: the learning of the Word is unending. Seminary was not an endpoint but a starting point of learning, and my favorite part of post-graduate life is the realization that I have the rest of my life to absorb, read, mull over His life-giving words.
So, Was I Successfully “Equipped”?
I thought I entered seminary “to be equipped,” but I ended each year of seminary with a growing sense of despair: “I don’t know anything, Lord!” I thought seminary training would grow my confidence in teaching and understanding His Word, but after graduation, I felt less equipped than ever. Growing knowledge of Him made me feel much smaller, the Word much weightier and our God far greater than I had ever imagined. Who am I to handle the Word? Much less teach it to others?
I think the sentiment is best expressed by Job’s response, after the Lord finally answers him: first, he is brought to silence (Job 40:4-5), and later he confesses:
“… I have uttered what I did not understand,
things too wonderful for me, which I did not know….
I had heard of you by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees you;
therefore I despise myself, and repent in dust and ashes.”
(Job 42:3, 5-6 ESV)
And perhaps this is the very position the Lord wants me in –
a taste of what it means to truly “be equipped.”
For all (especially women) who are considering seminary, I leave you with this:
I would not trade my seminary experience for the world. Regardless of what “small” or “big” ways He chooses to make use of it, I don’t think there’s a better investment we earthlings can make than in what is eternal and what lasts and in that which He guarantees a “return”:
“so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth;
it shall not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish that which I purpose,
and shall succeed in the thing for which I sent it.” (Isaiah 55:11 ESV)
Editor’s Note: This article is part of a series about seminary written to encourage and provide perspective to those who are curious or are considering seminary to be part of their future. What about all of the practical elements like finances and balancing family life? I haven’t been in school for a while–is it too late for me to think about seminary? We’ll tackle these questions and more through this series with the wisdom our writers offer to us.
Header photo credit: Pauline Iakovleva